


Say Something

by lookingforthestars



Category: Scorpion (TV 2014)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-22
Updated: 2015-06-22
Packaged: 2018-04-05 16:54:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4187568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lookingforthestars/pseuds/lookingforthestars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Walter tells Paige he loves her in a million ways without saying it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Ralph dropped his backpack on the table and shuffled across the garage, wrapping his arms around Paige. "I'm hungry," he mumbled into her shirt.

Paige laughed and stroked his hair. It was no longer unusual for Ralph to hug her, but every time he did, it felt like a small miracle. She loved him more than the world, but the years of distance between them had deprived her of the hope of ever connecting with him. It was only by fortune, or fate, that she and Ralph had learned to see life through each other's eyes and find a middle ground.

Paige kissed the top of his head and led him into the kitchen, stopping every few feet while he high-fived Sylvester, Toby, and Happy and received brief status updates on their projects. When they reached their destination, Ralph hopped up on a stool and smiled broadly at her. "Grilled cheese, please."

"Manners. I like it." Paige winked at him and rifled through the refrigerator to gather the ingredients. "How was school?"

Before Ralph could answer, they both heard Walter bounding down the stairs from the loft, where he had isolated himself for several hours while working on a particularly stubborn software patch. Paige pushed the cheese and bread onto the counter and tried to look nonchalant, declining to admit even to herself that, at times like today, she missed Walter's presence when he wasn't around.

"I thought I heard you come in." Walter grinned as he wrapped his hand around Ralph's shoulder. No matter how lost the genius appeared to be in a project, seeing Ralph had an instant effect on him. Watching them together always caused a tightening in Paige's chest, but she forced herself to push it aside. "How was school?"

"I was just about to tell mom." Ralph nodded in Paige's direction, and Walter's eyes followed. Needing to distract herself, she grabbed an orange off the counter and offered it to Walter, who accepted it readily and thanked her before turning his full attention back to the boy. "We're having a Family Night soon. It's dinner and a bunch of games. Probably nothing interesting, but my friends will be there, so I want to go."

_Friends._ Paige's heart skipped at the word. She never wanted Ralph to be anything other than who he was; as far as she was concerned, 'normal' wasn't a goal anyone needed to strive for. But everyone needed someone to rely on; it was only human nature, and Paige spent many long nights fearing that he would suffer the worst pain imaginable—loneliness.

Walter picked up on the word too and glanced over, catching Paige's eyes and giving her a knowing smile. He once assured her that Ralph would eventually fit in, and as with most things—not everything, but most things—he was right.

"Of course we can go, honey," Paige answered, blinking back the stray tear that rimmed her eye. "But your dad isn't coming to visit for a while, so it'll just be you and me, okay?"

"I can go," Walter offered instantly. He inhaled deeply and continued more slowly. "I mean, I'd be happy to go. If you want me to."

His gaze alternated between Paige and Ralph. The young boy was clearly thrilled and nodded enthusiastically. "Can Walter come? Then it doesn't have to be just us like it usually is."

Paige thought about the truth of her son's statement. Every meal, every walk in the park, every game, every school function—for seven years, she was the only one there. She was grateful for every moment they had together, but she wanted more for him. And then Scorpion—unpredictable, neurotic, allergic-to-authority Scorpion—came along and opened up the entire world to him.

She realized that Ralph and Walter were both watching her expectantly, so she fought back another wave of sentimentality and leaned her body against the refrigerator. "Walter, really, you don't have to. School events are literally the worst."

Walter chuckled. "I remember." He looked down at Ralph and patted him on his back. "Why don't you go help Sly and I'll bring your snack out when it's ready?"

Ralph glanced at the unopened bag of bread on the counter and nodded. "It seems like it's going to take a while."

"Probably." When Ralph was gone, Walter crossed around the kitchen island and came to a stop next to her. His proximity made her head swim, like it always did, and she wondered why it was so difficult for her to keep it together and stay professional. "I thought you were usually more enthusiastic about school stuff, for Ralph's sake."

"Ralph has pretty much caught on to my fake enthusiasm by now." Paige faced the counter and busied herself cutting the cheese into slices. "Do you really want to come to this thing?"

She deliberately wasn't looking at him, but she could feel Walter's eyes following her movements. "Of course. Why else would I offer?"

"I just know you've been really busy lately and it's for families, so—" Out of the corner of her eye, Paige noticed a flash of hurt cross Walter's face. "No, I mean, obviously you're part of Ralph's family. But school events are—all the parents are awful, the teachers are always judging you, and the food is basically whatever wasn't suitable to be served in the cafeteria. I bite the bullet because I'm his mother, but I don't want to put you through that."

"Paige," Walter said calmly. Reluctantly, she stopped slicing and turned to face him. His eyes were filled with a surprising amount of empathy. "I know you're used to doing things…alone, just you and him. But you don't have to anymore, okay? I want to be there for you just like you're there for us."

Paige's heart was beating hard against her rib cage. She'd heard a million lines from men looking to flatter her, romantic nothings that turned out to be just that—nothing. But she had never heard anything so sweet and genuine as the words Walter had just spoken to her, because she had no doubt that he meant them.

"And on the plus side," he added in a more lighthearted tone, "I'll help you avoid all the parents and teachers, and you can just talk to me. We can even pick up some food beforehand and save ourselves from the risk of food poisoning."

Spending a night off with Walter, watching over Ralph, sounded better than anything she could imagine. "Okay."


	2. Chapter 2

She couldn't believe this was happening again. Actually, no; she could believe it was happening, she just couldn't believe she had allowed it to happen.

"We had this planned, Drew. Ralph's had it marked on his calendar for months," Paige barked over the phone. "Do you realize what it does to him every time you cancel?"

"I'm sorry, Paige, it was a last minute thing," Drew replied, in a tone that made it clear he wasn't really that remorseful. "I'll come next week. A week doesn't make that much of a difference, does it?"

"That's not the point." She dropped her head forward and pinched the bridge of her nose, fighting the headache Drew never failed to give her. "I gave you a second chance to be Ralph's father and you still can't keep your word when it comes to him."

"I don't have much of a choice, Paige." Drew let out a clearly exaggerated sigh. "The coach needs me for this game."

Drew's sense of self-importance was reaching unprecedented heights. When they were together, everything revolved around advancing his career, and Paige was the dutiful girlfriend—moving from city to city, attending mind-numbingly boring events, consoling Drew after tough losses. And even now that Paige had her own, very successful life, he was still trying to pull her back in to that role.

Paige was struggling to form a reply that wasn't mostly screaming when Walter walked into the room. She had taken up residence on a couch in the loft to keep the conversation away from Ralph's ears; she never wanted her eternal struggle with Drew to impact the way Ralph saw him.

Walter closed the door behind him and looked at her questioningly. She motioned with her hand for him to come over and he hesitantly took a spot next to her. "Are you okay?" he mouthed.

Paige nodded and, without much thought, rested her hand on top of his. It surprised them both, and Paige's first thought was to pull—and maybe run—away immediately. But Walter  _had_  claimed he wanted to be there for her, and if anyone could keep her from strangling Drew across state lines…well, it was him. She left her hand where it was, and she was grateful when Walter didn't budge.

"Paige?" Drew's voice returned on the line. "Are you still there?"

"Look, Drew…" She glanced at Walter, who was watching her intently. Knowing he was there gave her a strange sort of strength. "Ralph loves you, and if he wants to be close to you, I will do everything I can to make that happen. But you need to start holding up your end of the deal, because I won't let Ralph keep experiencing this kind of disappointment."

Drew scoffed. He actually scoffed at her. Paige fantasized about reaching through the phone and punching him, but she found that she preferred Walter's touch over sweet revenge against Drew. "Disappointment happens, Paige. Maybe if you hadn't babied Ralph all his life, he would be able to handle it better."

"I'm sorry, what did you say?"

"You've shielded and protected Ralph from everything; of course he's going to struggle when things don't go the way he wants," Drew continued. Shifting the blame had always been one of his more developed talents. "One of these days you'll have to teach him to deal with challenges like normal people do-."

Paige felt her entire body tense. She had spent Ralph's entire life fighting against the stigma that something was wrong with him because he wasn't 'normal,' and the last person she expected to hear it from was his own father. Walter understood that she was angry and shifted his hand so that it was covering hers. His display of intuition surprised her.

Paige opened her mouth to respond but quickly shut it. Her blood was boiling, making it impossible for her to think straight, and she knew whatever she was likely to say next would make the situation a thousand times worse.

She wasn't sure if Walter had overheard Drew's rude remarks, but when he reached over and pulled the phone out of her hand, she knew he did.

"Drew," Walter said in an emotionless voice. "As much as Paige is enjoying your unwarranted lecture on parenting—I mean, I'm sure you would have done everything perfectly, had you been around—she has an important job to get back to that doesn't involve ineptly hitting things with a stick like a caveman. Good night."

Walter ended the call on her phone and, with a few taps, changed her settings so that Drew's calls would be blocked for a set number of hours. Preferably forever. He placed it back in her hand.

Paige stared at him for a moment in complete shock before bursting into a fit of hysterical laughter. Walter appeared to relax too and let out a gentle laugh.

"Oh my gosh, Walter," she said, clutching her side as she gasped for breath. "I can't believe you did that."

He smiled and scratched the side of his face. "I, uh, hope you're not mad."

"Please, I'd probably be driving to Maine to kill him right now if you hadn't stepped in." Paige placed her hand lightly on Walter's forearm. "Thank you, really."

"Of course. I just, um…" Paige stayed quiet and allowed him to express himself, which often took some time. "I don't like hearing him say those things about Ralph. Or you."

"Drew doesn't even mean that stuff." Paige pushed her hair away from her face. "He's just trying to deflect the blame for his bad decisions. I'm so used to it."

"But you shouldn't be." Walter was looking at her seriously and she knew his earlier laughter was just a cover for his true reaction. "The way you've taken care of Ralph is amazing. You knew that he was different but you never stopped trying to connect with him. I, uh, admire you for that. We all do."

Paige swallowed hard and focused on the wall across from her, unable to face Walter's intense eyes. "That's what parents do for their children."

"No, they don't," Walter replied with a hint of sadness. "Not ours, anyway. They treated our intelligence like it was a curse and tried to make us fit this…mold that would never work for us. But you accepted Ralph for who he is. And that's what makes you an exceptional mother."

She was taken aback by his words, but his expression showed that he was just stating facts. It was what he saw when he looked at her, an inarguable part of her like her brown hair or her predilection for cheesy movies.

Paige didn't know what came over her—she wasn't even sure it was something he wanted—but she responded, "You would be a great parent, too, Walter."

Walter didn't respond; she didn't expect him to. Instead, he looked over in the direction of the garage's main level, where they could hear Ralph laughing at a mechanical joke Happy told him, and smiled.


	3. Chapter 3

Paige sneezed so loudly that Happy dropped her wrench.

The liaison mumbled "Excuse me," and when she was met with complete silence, she looked around at the geniuses. They were all staring at her.

"Paige…" Walter started uncertainly.

"What?" she snapped. She knew what he was going to say, and she didn't want to hear it.

He sighed. "I think you might be sick."

Paige crossed her arms in front of her chest. She was reasonable in most things, but she was strongly, almost illogically opposed to the idea of being sick. "I sneezed. It's probably just dusty in here. One sneeze isn't a huge deal, is it?"

"Try seven," Happy muttered under her breath. Paige glared at her.

Walter looked at the others uneasily and approached Paige's desk as if he was afraid she would jump up and attack him. "I know you're not happy about it, but you are exhibiting symptoms of a cold. You should go home and rest."

"I can't." Paige motioned to a tall stack of paperwork on her left. "Plus I have to buy food, and take Ralph to Billy's house, and…" she trailed off before sneezing again.

Walter smirked in a way that she found  _extremely_ patronizing, but as she stood up to properly lecture him, her legs gave out under her. He wrapped his arm around her waist to steady her. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. I've just been…sitting too long," Paige rebutted, but she knew her argument was weakening as quickly as her body was.

Walter just shook his head. "Come on," he said, positioning himself to support her. She let out small grumbles of protest as he helped her up the stairs to the loft, but he ignored them.

He brought her the last few steps to his mattress and lowered her down. Paige was struck by the intimacy of being in his bed, but the idea intrigued her. She was fairly certain some of her dreams had started this way. "Do you want tea?" Walter asked, bringing her out of her thoughts.

"Yes, thank you." She tried to sound chipper even though her throat was scratchy. "I'll rest for an hour and I'm sure I'll be good."

Walter chuckled. He was the king of denial, but when it came to her health, Paige gave him a run for his money. "I'll get you some tea and I'll drop Ralph off at Billy's later."

She opened her mouth to protest again but he was already closing the door.

* * *

Paige awoke several hours later, her body aching from head to toe. After she gulped down the tea Walter brought her, she had apparently passed out, although she didn't remember doing so. Resting neatly by the bed were her shoes, the only item of clothing she had the will to remove.

She heard the garage door open and close, and she knew it must have been Walter returning after he picked up Ralph. Paige prepared herself to climb out of the bed, but after a brief struggle she gave up and collapsed back onto the pillow. She nearly jumped when she heard a soft knock on the bedroom door.

"Paige?" Walter's voice drifted in.

"Yeah, come in." Paige sat up, hurriedly trying to fix her bedhead and straighten out her red blouse. She was surprised when Ralph came into the room first, followed by Walter.

"You didn't take him to Billy's?" she inquired. As if on cue, Ralph let out a huge sneeze.

Walter looked at the boy sympathetically. "It seems you've both been bitten by the same bug."

Paige pulled back the covers, scooted over and motioned for Ralph to join her. He complied, discarding his backpack and throwing himself onto the bed dramatically.

Walter paused before sitting on the edge of the bed across from Paige. "How do you feel?"

"Better…and worse," she admitted. It was hard to remain defiant when she couldn't stand up. "Thanks for picking up Ralph. Are we going to make you sick now?"

"Probably not. I rarely get sick," Walter said matter-of-factly. She envied him. "Stay here as long as you need to, I'll order pizza for everyone."

"What are you guys working on?" Paige missed being in the thick of the action with the geniuses. Watching them attack a problem was nothing short of fascinating.

Walter spent a few minutes detailing their projects—Toby was testing a new memory recollection technique, Sylvester was creating an algorithm to predict weather patterns more accurately, and he was designing a security upgrade for a bank with branches around the world. No one knew what Happy was working on, which was probably best, for legal reasons.

They sat in peaceful silence for a moment, watching Ralph who had fallen asleep soundly. "Thank you for letting me stay up here. I'm sorry we're taking over your room. We'll get out as soon as I'm able to drive home."

"Actually, um…" Walter looked at the boy and then to her, and smiled. "It's nice, having you both here. I'm enjoying it."

There were so many things Paige was dying to say—how she felt at home in the loft, how she could accept being sick if he was the one taking care of her, how she was surprised he was the one taking care of her, how she would be happy to wake up near him every morning—but it was too much to comprehend for either of them, so she settled on something easier. "Me too."


	4. Chapter 4

It was pitch black in the corner of the warehouse where Walter and Paige were hiding. Their latest job had gone sideways—not that shocking, anymore—when Grant Wilson, the plain-spoken computer technician who moonlighted as the local arm of an international trafficking ring, intercepted their radio communications and tapped on his rather large network of connections to meet them during the bust. His backup came in the form of about a dozen huge, burly men with even larger guns. When he heard screaming in Russian, Walter grabbed Paige and dragged her behind a stack of crates, pushing her into the farthest recess from the door. She was shaking.

"It's okay. We've been in worse situations than this," Walter said in a tone that he hoped was reassuring. He was listening to the voices of the men and calculating how long it would take them to search the warehouse. It wouldn't hurt to scout out exit routes as well.

"Walter?" Paige whispered, her voice halting.

"Yeah?" He paused his calculations, just for a moment, to look at her. She was clearly terrified. In times of distress, he had numbers to distract him; geniuses thought best under pressure. But Paige was different. She had only emotion and a rotation of increasingly worse scenarios running through her mind.

She didn't answer him. He wished he knew what to say, but getting them out of this mess would be better than a thousand soothing platitudes.

Walter heard one of the men knock over a metal cart and knew they weren't safe for much longer. There was one way in and one way out, so if he wanted to protect Paige, he would have to lead the mercenaries away from her.

"Paige." He paused before wrapping his hand over her knee, wanting to have some type of contact with her if this all went horribly awry. "Whatever happens, you have to stay here."

There were tears forming in her eyes and even though it killed him to leave her, he knew it was their best option. Moving slowly to avoid startling the man, he stood up and raised his hands in the air. "I'm here. Don't shoot."

"Smart move to surrender. We already have the rest of your team." Walter could tell by his intonation that the mercenary was bluffing, but he stayed quiet and let him think he had the upper hand.

"I just want to talk to Grant," Walter said calmly, keeping his hands raised. "I have information that he might find valuable."

"A bit eager to switch sides, aren't you?" The man kept his assault rifle trained on the genius. It was alarming how often Walter found himself in this situation. "I was never very loyal to the government either."

"You have my team," Walter replied. Every muscle in his body ached to turn around and check on Paige, but he couldn't give away her location, so he made himself look ahead. "I'm just hoping to work out a deal for their lives."

"I'm not optimistic about your chances, but hey, we'll let Grant decide your fate," the man said, giving him a self-satisfied smirk. He grabbed Walter's arms and pinned them behind his back, leading him out of the warehouse. They were almost to the door when a ringing sound stopped the thug in his tracks. "Who else is here?"

Walter knew the sound was most likely Paige bumping against one of the metal drums, but he forced himself to keep a straight face. "No one. You have everyone else."

"Apparently not." The mercenary twisted Walter's body and pushed the gun against his back, forcing him to walk ahead. They were going in the direction of the crates, and if they reached Paige, he had no chance of saving her.

Allowing adrenaline to take over, Walter ducked out of the man's grasp and punched him in the nose, giving the genius a few seconds to formulate a plan while the man stumbled backward. Walter lunged for the rifle, delivering another sharp blow with his elbow. Wilson's henchman was easily twice his size, but winning a fight wasn't just about brute strength—it was about strategy, and that was Walter's forte.

In one swift motion, Walter wrapped his arms around the man's neck and kicked him in the back of his knee. The impact caused the rifle to clatter to the floor and the mercenary's legs to crumble under him. Walter grabbed the weapon and trained it on him, grateful for the basic training Cabe had forced them to endure.

A slow smile stretched across the soldier's face and Walter knew something was wrong. He pieced together that there was a second gun right before the man pulled it out of his jacket. Even Walter's reflexes weren't fast enough to do anything but watch as three shots were fired into the corner where Paige was hiding. There was nothing but silence.

Walter's face showed clear hesitation, and the man took that as his cue to stumble out of the warehouse. Walter didn't even think about following him. It didn't matter.  _Paige_.

He dropped the gun instantly and raced over to her. Paige was still huddled in the corner, frozen stiff, her knees pulled up to her chest. She choked out a sob when she saw him.

There were a range of emotions that Walter had trouble categorizing—fear foremost among them, so much so that he insisted for years he was immune to it. But he felt it; his eyes were filled with it. It seemed deadly quiet around them as he scanned her body, looking for any sign of injury. He finally met her gaze, looking at her in a way he never had before, like he was seeing her for the first time. Paige was certain that if she had been hurt, she wouldn't have felt anything in that moment; all she could process was his wide eyes locked on hers.

Walter's hand was shaking violently as he hesitantly reached up to her cheek. His touch rippled through every part of her body. She expected him to say something, snap her out of the moment, but words failed them both. Paige never wanted him to let go. She realized she would relive that moment of fear again and again, let the fight rage on around them forever, if it meant that Walter would keep looking at her like that.

"Walter! Paige!" Cabe's voice echoed around the exposed walls of the warehouse. "Are you okay?"

"Over here." Walter replied without taking his eyes off Paige. "We're fine."

Cabe appeared behind them, breathing a heavy sigh of relief. "Thank god. We're clear, Wilson and his men didn't last long after our backup arrived."

"The team?"

"Everyone's fine," Cabe assured him. "Shaken up, but fine."

"Good."

The agent observed them for a moment longer, surprised to see Walter's hand lingering on Paige's face, and decided to make his exit. "We'll be in the van."

"Mmhmm," Walter replied almost inaudibly. He didn't stop to think if it was strange to stare at Paige this long; he just couldn't comprehend almost losing her. It was the worst feeling he had ever experienced.

Paige could see the pain plastered on Walter's face and understood. The fear she felt when he surrendered—to save  _her_ —was unbearable. She wrapped her hand around the one he had on her cheek and leaned forward, touching her forehead to his. She could hear his ragged breath. "I'm okay, Walter."

He nodded, swallowing hard. They stayed like that for a long minute before she stood, pulling him up with her, and walked outside to join the others.


	5. Chapter 5

As Megan got worse, so did Walter.

After Walter's sister revealed that she would only be able to leave the hospital under the supervision of a nurse, Paige could see Walter start to crack. He had finally given into Megan's constant urging over the past few months and spent more time with her: bringing her to the garage for family dinners, looking for shells on the beach with her, and taking her out to museums (while he pushed her in a wheelchair, usually). And now even that was slipping away.

Walter's response to stress was always the same: recklessness. Although Cabe had concerns about taking on a private client that week, the genius insisted he was fine. Paige knew better.

Everyone was quiet on the ride back to the garage. Walter jumped out of the van, ignoring the team and sprinting up the stairs to his loft. She was right behind him.

"Paige, get out," he ordered as she closed and locked the door to his apartment.

"No," she responded plainly. Paige knew the rest of the team would be listening, so she pushed him into his bedroom and closed that door as well. "Usually I give you time to cool down, but we need to talk about this now."

"The job is done."

"And you almost died."

Walter narrowed his eyes at her. "Damon had the detonator and I got it from him."

"By fighting him on a rooftop! There are four directions in which that could have gone really badly, Walter." Paige felt a familiar knot in her chest. "Why didn't you wait for the backup team?"

"There wasn't time." Walter shrugged. "I do what I need to do to finish the job, that's why Cabe hires us-."

"Shut up!" Paige yelled. She could be kind and patient—extraordinarily patient—with the geniuses, but this wasn't the time. "You put your own life and the lives of thousands of other people at risk by taking on Damon alone. You should have waited and you know it."

Walter ran his hands over his face. "Then put that in your report. Just go ahead and tell Homeland Security that I am a giant screwup and a liability to the team. That's what you're thinking, isn't it?"

"I'm not..." Paige let out a frustrated groan. She paced the room briefly before landing near Walter's window, watching the traffic below. "What I think is that Megan is getting sicker, and you feel worthless for not being able to help her, so you treat your own life like it doesn't matter."

She took a deep breath before facing him. He looked so tired. "Are you going to analyze me like Toby now?" he snapped, but his voice didn't betray anger as much as desperation.

"I shouldn't have to because you should just talk to me!" Paige took a few steps so she was standing directly across from him. "I know that's not easy for you, but you've opened up to me before, and I don't understand why you can't trust me enough to do it now."

She looked at him expectantly, but he pressed his lips together, making it clear that he wasn't going to answer.

"Fine, I'll talk. Your brain is amazing, and you save a lot of people with it. What Scorpion does is risky and it saves lives, and I get that." Paige felt electricity running through every nerve in her body. "But whether you want it or not, there are people who care about you, Walter. People who love you, and when you take these stupid, unnecessary risks, you're making it clear that you don't care if you hurt them."

He was still silent, so she continued, unable to stop even if she wanted to. "Maybe it's because of Baghdad, maybe because of Megan, but for some reason you think your life is worth less than everyone else's. When we were in that warehouse and you thought I had been shot, did you care about my life?" Walter drew in a shaky breath, the color draining out of his already pale face. It was enough of an answer for her. "Whatever you felt in that moment, that's what I feel. That's what Megan feels, what the team feels, what Ralph feels every time you put yourself in danger."

Paige waited for her words to soak in, to see if she had succeeded in reaching him. But he just stared at her blankly. "Never mind. Maybe you are a robot, just like you always-."

She never finished her statement because Walter had closed the distance between them and crashed his lips onto hers. Her brain barely reacted before her body took over, her hands running up his back and pulling him closer to her. He took a step forward and she was up against the wall, his palms resting on either side of her face. The kiss was exactly the way she'd dreamed it—intense and deep—but with a hint of tenderness that made her weak.

It was the way their last argument should have ended—not with him on a cliff and her at the airport, but with them holding on to each other and refusing to let go.

He kissed her long past the point when they were unable to breathe, but it could never last long enough for her. When they finally parted, she clutched his shirt in her hands, afraid he might slip away and say that it was all a mistake and they should forget about it.

But when he pulled back to look her in the eyes, she knew it wasn't a mistake. His face confirmed what she had always wondered—what he had never been able to say. "I'm sorry, Paige. I…"

His voice trailed off, but she didn't need to hear the rest. "I know. Me too."


End file.
